


You and I (and what we get up to)

by kittybenzedrine



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Tags in Individual Chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-22 05:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 19,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12474748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: Short one word prompts, in ABC order. Little snapshots of the time Aiden and Lambert spent together in no particular order. Some sweet, some sad, and the occasional sex scene.





	1. Appearance

Lambert scowls while Aiden covers his own mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. He's got this awful laugh, far too high pitched to be coming from a man and sounds like a coyote yipping. And fucking hell is Aiden's laugh _loud_. He feel the eyes of the other folk in the tavern burning their gazes into the two of them.

"No, why are you laughing? I just want to know what you though when you saw me that first time." Lambert's truly more confused than angry, despite what his face may be showing. The one time he tries to be sweet and Aiden starts laughing for no reason. Okay, maybe he's a little more irritated than he thought.

Aiden waves him off, still squeaking out laughs. "No no, you first."

Instead of arguing like he wants to, Lambert complies. He hunches over his mug of ale, gripping the handle. "I thought you were pretty smug, which I usually expect out of Cats anyways," he says speaking over Aiden's softening laugh. "Thought you were kinda stuck up and a little pushy, but I thought you were pretty, too. Liked your smile. Cheekbones. General shapes of your features."

Lambert doesn't get the reaction he expects. He figures Aiden will settle down to giggling, say something sweet back. Instead, Aiden throws his head back and _howls_. The other patrons in the tavern are glaring, and Lambert agrees with the sentiment.

"What so fucking funny?" It's kinda making him self conscious. He considers taking it back and telling Aiden that he looked like a talking cow's ass.

Aiden's got both his hands on his face to try to smother his laughing, but he pulls them off long enough to choke out "I though you looked like an angry chipmunk!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lambert got some goddamn chipmunk cheeks.


	2. Breathe

"Just breathe," Lambert tells Aiden, hand flat on Aiden's heaving back. He inhales and exhales in a slow, deliberate manner, trying to get Aiden to match his breathing. Lambert can feel something warm and wet soaking into the thigh where Aiden's face is, probably tears. He can hear Aiden's heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, feel it in his knee where Aiden is curled around him.

On several occasions in the past the two of them had discussed the belief that witchers have no feelings, or at least a limited emotional range. Both agreed that it was complete bullshit. Just a guise to act like pricks with limited morals. Lambert thinks of this as ironic proof as Aiden hyperventilates against him, both of his hands gripped into Lambert's pants tight enough to tear.

"It was a bad idea to bring you down here," Lambert says, more to himself than anything. He knows Aiden is claustrophobic, and knew damn well that there were narrow pages in the caves, narrow enough that the cave walls scratched their faces as they squeezed through. But being the unthinking prick he is, he brought Aiden along anyways. He lightly shifts on the floor of the cave, not wanting to disturb Aiden, but definitely wanting a sharp piece of rock to not be digging into his ass. It doesn't help, and Aiden muffles a sob.

Trying not to pull hairs, Lambert tugs the hair tie from Aiden's hair. He removes his gloves and sets them aside to begin the methodical process of running his fingers through Aiden's long dark hair. Aiden whines and chokes something out, but it's too muddled and strained for Lambert to make out.

"Just breathe," Lambert repeats, massaging Aiden's scalp. "It'll pass. You'll be okay. It'll pass." It's not the first panic attack he's had to soothe, but definitely one of the worst.

It strains the muscles in his back, but he leans down and presses his forehead to the back of Aiden's skull, hands cupping the base. Aiden keens like an animal in pain, such a high noise that it hurts Lambert's ears. Digs his fingers deeper into Lambert's legs, enough that Lambert is sure Aiden has ripped the stitching in his gauntlets.

"Just keep breathing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If their positioning doesn't make sense: 
> 
> Lambert is sitting with his feet under him and Aiden is the same way, but Aiden is basically hunched over into fetal position with his face on Lambert's leg.


	3. Cohort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very minor sexual reference in the beginning

Aiden's teeth are terrifying. Lambert's always been fascinated by them, and a little wary when Aiden sucks him off. They're sharp, even the blunt shaped ones, and only enhance the look of rage as he screams at Lambert in a crowded market. All eyes are on the two them.

"We've known each other for how long!? You've been my best friend for years, and _this_ is how you repay me!?" Aiden's got his hand back, ready to pull his sword at a moment's notice.

Lambert bares his teeth. It's not as impressive as Aiden's mouth full of needles, but it furthers his look of poorly contained anger combined with his too-rigid spine. "Oh, don't go acting like you're a fucking saint here either, Aiden! How many times have you swindled me out of coin, huh? How many times have I trusted you to guard my back, only to turn around to see you flirting with anything in a skirt?" 

"Don't change the subject. The was a gift that you destroyed!"

"So just have a new one made! Not that hard to do."

Aiden takes a step forward. His brown cheeks have started to flush red. His teeth are on display like a feral animal. "It was a gift given to me by the man I considered my father, who is probably fucking dead by this point. He forged it himself, carved the fucking handle out of ivory. I can never get that back!"

From somewhere behind Aiden, Lambert catches sight of a girl sprinting through the crowd, darts into an alley. Need to wrap this stupid argument up. "Not my godsdamned problem. Wouldn't have broken if it weren't so shoddily made. It's in the bottom of the Pontar anyways, so yeah, you're not wrong that you'll never get it back!"

And with that, Lambert turns on his heel and fucking books it.

He can hear Aiden running after him, shouting obscenities. Lambert slows his pace to a jog once out off sight of the townsfolk, though he can still hear Aiden sprinting after him. They both slow down further as they get close to the banks of the river, and Lambert stops to let Aiden catch up.

The girl Lambert saw earlier approaches them shortly after, glancing around nervously. She's probably just shy of 14, still so young looking, the last vestiges of baby fat holding onto her pink checks. Hardened by the streets, not afraid to do a little dirty work.

"You got it?" Lambert asks. The girl silently holds out her hand, and drops a key into Lambert's palm. The exact key they need to hurry up and finish a contract. The exact key that a shitty, rude shopkeep refused to sell to them for being "nonhumans".

"Stole it while shopkeep was outside watching. Good distraction," she mumbles. Digs the toe of her shoe into the sand.

Aiden nods. "Thought of it on the spot. Glad we both made it work." He offers get a small pouch of coins, and surprises her with an additional small block of candy. "Incentive to keep your mouth shut. Don't wanna have to feed you to drowners."

She thanks them and leaves the way she came. Lambert and Aiden begin the trek back to the small village in the woods to finish up their contact, unwilling to waste any more time. The sun already setting, and they need to be finished by midnight.


	4. Dream

"You... You should be dead."

Lambert cradles Aiden's face in his shaking hands, blinks through the wetness welling up. His heart pounds in his chest and he's scared his knees may give out on him. Aiden is a sweet sight for sore eyes. And by the gods, it taste like pure bliss when Aiden presses their lips together.

"But I'm here, aren't I?"

Aiden's hair looks like long, jet black silk as it flows loosely over the navy blue of his Cat armor. It's such a rare sight to see Aiden's hair loose, and Lambert drinks it all in. Aiden's like fine wine, tastes just as good. Lambert feels drunk just looking at him.

"Never thought I'd see you again," Lambert admits, and his voice is more choked than he expected it would be. His fingers come up and touch the edges of Aiden's eye patch. Aiden brings a hand of his own up and redirects Lambert's hand back to his check.

"Fought my way out of Hell for you," Aiden jokes, before kissing him again, long and slow. "Nothing can keep me away."

Aiden places his hands on Lambert's hips and walks the two of them backwards until his back hits a wall. They embrace again, tighter. Aiden pulls away after a moment, and it's his turn to hold Lambert's face in his hands and brings their lips together

They kiss in the shadow of Kaer Morhen, and Lambert is acutely aware that Vesemir is probably spying on them. But fuck if he cares. He never thought he'd get to see Aiden again, let alone touch him, kiss him. Lambert can smell the distinct musk of Aiden's scent as he buries his face into Aiden's shoulder.

"Fuck, I love you Aiden," he muffles into the shirt.

Aiden merely kisses his temple. Both of Aiden's arms are around his neck, warm and heavy. So it comes as a shock when a third hand touches him through his shirt, icy on his lower back.

 

He rolls over so fast he nearly topples off the bed. Geralt stands over him, and Lambert is aware that all around his eyes feels wet. Geralt gives him a look, something close to pity, and goes without saying a word to him. Lambert can feel his mood already beginning to sour as the last memories of Aiden's scent leaves his mind.


	5. Enhanced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that there's a lot of gagging and vomiting in this. Go ahead and skip if that bothers you

"This was a fucking mistake," Lambert grumbles, relaxing the hold on his enhanced senses. His gambeson is too short to be pulled up over his nose, and fuck it reeks.

From somewhere behind him, Aiden gags. Lambert's stomach agrees with the sentiment, roiling at the pungent stench of fresh Fiend dung in the air. He swallows down the saliva rapidly filling his mouth, fighting off the strong urge to vomit into the grass.

"Don't fucking puke," Lambert says to Aiden, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "I sympathy puke, and if you puke, I puke."

Aiden doesn't reply, instead dry retching. He can hear Aiden's stomach gurgling. Fuck. Lambert particularly hates this part of being a witcher, the goddamn enhanced senses. Can't just tune into one in particular, no, if you want one you get them all. Doesn't matter that the two men just need to find the fiend's tracks, nope, they have to smell the disgusting reminders of what the thing has eaten, but now in high definition!

Lambert takes small, shallow breaths as he fine-tunes his senses again, eyes following the now clear tracks of the beasts hooves. "Found it. Let's go." The wind picks up, and not even the shallow breathing helps as the scent of the dung overwhelms the area.

"This is why I avoid fiends," Aiden mumbles, not paying any attention to the other. His eyes are watering. "Their shit stinks so bad." He stares at the ground for a long moment. Aiden burps, and seconds later the faintest scent of the dried beef they'd had for lunch fillers past Lambert's nose. He burps again, face going a little green this time, and Lambert feels a chill go down his spine. Oh no.

"Aiden, don't-"

Aiden does. Loudly. It splashed the toes of his dusty boots as he doubles over. The scent of the sick hits Lambert's nose almost instantly, turning his stomach past the point of no return. Both witcher's ill-digested lunches join the fiend's shit in the clearing.


	6. First

They've probably had too much to drink. Probably. Lambert isn't a very good judge of how much alcohol is too much. Aiden is laughing at his own stupid joke too hard to get through it, and Lambert can't help but laugh along.

The abandoned hut they're holed up in creaks dangerously in the wind, but it holds. The table Aiden leans on creaks louder and barely supports the witcher's weight. Neither pay it any mind. Neither care honestly. The two of them are happily sloshed, down two bottles of vodka each and working on their third.

Aiden lounges in a loose shirt and his smallclothes, seemingly immune to the chill. "Okay bu-but Gaetan- 'member him?" Aiden hiccups before continuing. "So one night, we, we uh. We went down int-to the pasture? Gaetan said cow tipping was impo-hic!-ossible, and he wants to prove it. So we go down, right? And we- we're sneaking up on this behemoth of a cow. But we, we didn't know Kiyan was f-following us!"

He stops long enough to stop his giggling and take a long pull from their bottle of vodka. "So we're there, trying t-to creep up on a fuckin' cow, right? And as Gaetan was 'bout to try to tip it, Kiyan fuckin' blasts us with Aard!" Aiden laughs, loud and high, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Lambert tries not to choke on the swig of vodka in his mouth at the mental image.

"And it-it threw us into the cow! And she fuckin' tipped!"

He keeps on and on, rambling and dragging it out and milking every detail as best he can through his giggles and slurs. Lambert just kind of wants him to be quiet for a minute after it goes on for a while. In one surprisingly fluid motion, Lambert leans forward, cups the back of Aiden's head, and presses their lips together.

Aiden goes stock still, and Lambert pushes himself back so hard that his chair squeals on the floor. He can feel himself sobering up already. "Fuck, Aiden, I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I- I had no idea," Aiden says quietly, looking stunned.

"I know, I-I'm sorry."

"I had no idea," he repeats, sounding more awed than shocked this time.

Aiden gets up, wobbly on his feet. Lambert looks up at him, absolutely stupefied and a little confused, and definitely anxious. Aiden's hands are cold when they caress Lambert's jaw and he looks a little giddy now. He leans in, slow, and whispers "I had no idea," before tilting his head in and kissing Lambert.


	7. Grin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to add a warning when I published this chapter, oops.
> 
> Warnings for violence and homophobia

Aiden ducks, darts away, dances circles around the four men swinging at him. He's got a big feral grin on his face, and Lambert would bet every crown in his pocket that Aiden was enjoying this on more than one level. Lambert just leans back against the tavern wall with the other patrons, enjoying watching Aiden fuck with them.

They weren't careful enough earlier, apparently. Sharing a single room with one bed was tentatively accepted by the tavern owner as two witchers being frugal. Never being further than an arms length away from the other was passed off as being close friends. Someone probably saw them kissing down by the water after talking care of their millionth drowner contract. Their tongues in each other's mouths couldn't really be explained by anything.

A few of the townsmen had apparently bided their time, waiting until Lambert and Aiden were sat down for dinner. They'd come up when Lambert was three bites into his stew, loudly calling them cocksuckers and sinners and whatever else they could think of to try to offend the men and draw attention.

Both Lambert and Aiden got up, ready for a fight, but Aiden lightly touched Lambert's back. Told him softly _I've got this_ , and kissed him sweetly on the lips just to piss the shitheads off worse. So Lambert cleared out of the way with everyone else to watch the fight.

And watch he does. His lithe Cat, agile as ever even with armor on his frame, two heavy swords on his back. Moving quick on his toes, the men unable to land a single blow on him.

The woman next to Lambert snorts as she watches the show. "And yet they say nothing when they see Lana and I kiss, when we live together with a single bed. These idiot don't believe a woman could want sex unless it's what their husband wants, and don't get me started on what they think two men do together," she tells him in a low voice, a grin plastered on her dark mouth.

He doesn't get a chance to reply, because Aiden very abruptly decides he's done playing. One sharp, fast hit to the jaw fells the biggest man, and it goes downhill for the townsmen from there. Elbows to noses, knees to guts, and Aiden does it all while laughing.

When the men beg for him to stop, Aiden finally relents. His navy gloves are stained ruby red at the knuckles and his checks are pink from the adrenaline rush. The four leave without another word, and everything in the tavern reverts back to normal. Lambert and Aiden sit back down to finish dinner as if nothing had happened. Aiden offers the tavern owner a small bribe to not kick them out for the night for getting blood on her floor, which she begrudgingly accepts.

No one dares breathe a word about it when the two of them finally go to retire to their room for the night. Neither mind it one bit as they strip each other in peace.


	8. Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for poisoning and threats of murder

"It'll pass," Lambert grits out, but Aiden looks more and more panicked as Lambert spits up more blood.

He's ingested something poisoned, he thinks. Probably that dumpings the baker from three hours ago gave him. So insistent that Lambert take it, acting so grateful for he and Aiden getting rid of the wraiths plaguing the town. He'd eaten two an hour into their journey, but Aiden wanted something sweet and ate an apple instead. And Aiden was fine, definitely not vomiting blood.

Lambert's stomach felt upset around an hour after eating the dumplings. Cramped viciously by the second hour, and he dismounted, thinking the food wasn't agreeing with his stomach. Aiden made a joke about Lambert shitting himself, but sobered up fast when Lambert collapsed to his knees three feet into the woods. Before Aiden even had a chance to get off his horse, the dumplings had come back up with a shocking amount of red.

"Take some oriole," Aiden tells him, already trying to dig in Lambert's pack to find a spare vial.

Lambert shakes his head. More blood comes up before he can speak. A little of it dribbles down his chin. "It's a waste. I've been poisoned before by things a lot worse, it'll pass."

Aiden tries to convince him to take it, but Lambert shakes his head. "This is bullshit. By food logic, you should have gotten poisoned because you ate an apple. Never read a story about poisoned dumplings, but plenty about poisoned apples."

Lambert looks up, doing his best to smile at his own shitty joke, but Aiden gets a look on his face. Frowns deeply, seeing the blood staining Lambert's teeth. Lambert watches something go cold in Aiden's eyes.

"I'll kill him."

He has no doubt Aiden is serious.

"Aiden, no." It probably solidifies Aiden's urge even more when Lambert's coughs and more blood dribbles down his chin

"It'll be evening by the time I get there, if I leave now. The window near the oven is undoubtedly opened often, so it should be well oiled so it doesn't squeak. Makes no noise, so he won't hear me come in. Cover his mouth and slit his throat. Let him drown in his own blood, make damn sure he's dead after. Wipe my boot prints from the floor and windowsill. In and out. No one will ever know. I've done harder things with worse planning."

"So you're gonna to back to being a murdering sack of shit like the other sick fucks in your school?" Lambert spits out less blood this time. The pain in his stomach is easing up. It's already passing. "Thought you weren't like that anymore, Aiden."

"I'm not. Old habits die hard though, and I'm not fond of the fact that he tried to kill you." Aiden puts the oriole back in Lambert's bag. He's livid, but not at Lambert at least.

Lambert shakes his head, shakily rises to his feet. Spits again, mostly clear now. "He's not worth it. I'm feeling better now anyways. You know I'm one for revenge but not this time. Let's just go, he'll get what's coming to him."

Aiden's eyes still look cold through the warm gold of his irises. "I sure hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!!


	9. Interfere

"Don't interfere," Lambert hisses at his employer. Jenson, he thinks. Stupid fuck. If he didn't need the coin so bad, he never would have taken on this contract. There's little to be done to lift a curse of an old, angry wraith if he can't find her bones. A lot to be done, however, with an employer who won't back up and let him do his fucking job. "Go home where you'll actually be safe and wait for us."

Jenson agrees but simply lags much further behind, thinking that Lambert can't hear his messy, loud footsteps even without his enhanced hearing. Lambert grits his teeth in annoyance. This is the kind of shit that got his employer killed when he first met Aiden. A goddamn nuisance that couldn't just let him do his job, and ended up getting himself killed because he wanted to fuck an ogre or something. A tree rattles and shakes in front of Lambert, and Aiden tumbles out of it.

"Nothing up there," Aiden says casually as he gets up, as if he didn't just almost break his arm. He glances down at his armor and brushes himself off. "Are you sure he said it's in a tree?"

Lambert rakes his hands down his face as he hears Jenson attempting to hide in a bush a ways back. "I wouldn't have you playing pretend as "school of the monkey" and climbing all these fucking trees if I wasn't sure. You read the letter too. Her asshole betrothed confessed on his deathbed that he killed her and put her body in a hollow in a tree."

Aiden shakes his head. "I've checked all the trees in the area. All the empty spaces in reach, and the ones you have to climb to. There's nothing. I mean, I think I just robbed a kid, because I found a bag of candy and may have possibly taken half of it, but-" He abruptly stops talking and looks off behind Lambert, which Lambert is grateful for because he doesn't like telling his boyfriend to shut up.

Leaves crunch behind Lambert's back. Ah. That's what Aiden is staring at. Lambert can feel his already short fuse burning up as the noise of foliage being destroyed under shitty boots gets closer.

His employer clears his throat. Lambert's fuse reaches its end. "Perhaps I-"

"Go home!" Lambert shouts, turning on his heel. Jenson jumps, spectacles almost falling from his nose. "It's not fucking safe for you here, how many times do I have to repeat myself? I told you, we'll let you know when we're done!"

The man looks startled. He scowls after the initial shock, opens his mouth to argue. Lambert watches Jenson's gaze shift to over his shoulder to Aiden. He's not sure what Aiden does, but the man goes pale and closes his mouth.

"The more your interfere with our fucking work, the longer it's going to take! It's dangerous work made more hazardous since someone has to babysit your ass!" Lambert feels like his face neck are burning. He must be bright red. "When we're done, I'll even tell you where we buried her, since you seem to want to fuck her bones so badly! Until then, GO HOME!"

With that, Jenson turns tail and sprints off in the direction he came from. Aiden mumbles something about them not getting their bonus while Lambert stalks up to a tree. Two of his fingers break when he punches the wood, and he swears he can faintly hear something further up the trunk rattle inside.


	10. Jewel

Aiden is a gift giver. It bothered Lambert at first, made him feel like he was obligated to give something back. Hated the more expensive things like perfumes from Toussaint and better armor. Felt like he owed Aiden for it. He's come to figure out it's just another of the ways that Aiden shows his affection, and accepts with little argument now.

It's the jewelry that still bothers him.

The first is a silver ring. Just a small thin thing, no intricate designs or big flashy stones. Aiden holds it out and presses it into Lambert's palm when he curiously accepts it. He smiles and encourages Lambert to try it on.

"It's too small for even my pinky, so maybe it'll fit you? I had it commissioned for me, made sure I specified for myself, but he still made it a woman's size," Aiden tells Lambert, not letting him get a word in. "See how thin it is? If he tried to make it any bigger it'd snap with a good squeeze. So I figured I'd give it to you instead of selling it back for half the coin I spent having it made."

Lambert gets lost somewhere in the middle of the ramblings, but tries it on anyways. It fits well enough, and Aiden seems pleased to see it. Lambert grows comfortable with its weight and wears it for a while, even after their paths diverge once again, but puts it away in his pack after it gets damaged during a battle. It gets tucked away for good in a small jewelry box in his room back at Kaer Morhen when he makes the winter trip. Come spring, when they find each other again, Aiden seems a bit sad once he notices it's gone. He cheers right up and laughs like an idiot when Lambert presents him a bouquet of the shittiest, ugliest dead flowers he can find.

It's a free for all after the first ring. Every time they see each other, Aiden has a new piece of jewelry for him. Always silver and gold, usually adorned with expensive stones or pearls. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, anklets, even a pair of earrings once. Lambert points out that he doesn't have pierced ears, and Aiden removes one from the box and shows him a small painless clip that would hold them to earlobes.

"Why do you keep giving me jewelry? You know I don't wear it, and it's kind of a waste. You've probably spent at least 10,000 crowns and it's all just sitting in a box back at Kaer Morhen." Lambert takes a drink of his vodka in their private room at the back of a tavern. The most recent gift was a necklace with a hunk of amber in it.

He's taking up most of the bed, so Aiden's cross-legged at the foot. "Honestly? Would it bother you that the thought of you smelling like a Toussaint whorehouse, dressed in lots of jewels and nothing else turns me on?"

"... Say something next time, fuck. I'm not a mind reader. You know I have no problem indulging you and the weird shit you're into. I think I still have a little of that perfume somewhere. Should I just bring the whole jewelry box when I leave in the spring?"

Aiden merely grins in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm having a little bit of trouble with the K prompt, so it may be delayed by a day or two. Sorry!


	11. Killjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took 11 prompts for me to write something vaguely sexual, wow!
> 
> There be blowjobs in this. All is consensual, but one partner is more intoxicated than the other so if that bothers you, you may wanna skip this one

"Alright, bud, I think you've had enough," Lambert says, putting his hands on either of Aiden's shoulders. The pretty girl at the bar that's steadily been buying Aiden drinks gives Lambert a dirty look. Aiden tries to tilt his head backwards to look at Lambert, and almost topples out of his chair.

"I think you're a killjoy," Aiden slurs out, and the woman makes a noise of agreement. Lambert's truthfully pretty drunk, but nowhere as far gone as Aiden.

"Just leave him alone, it's not like you'll be fucking him tonight," the woman spits, looking cranky. He's overheard Aiden shamelessly flirting with her all night, and the poor girl has no idea just how gay Aiden is. The ship of him fucking women, or anyone that isn't Lambert for that matter, has _looooong_ sailed.

Lambert smirks, pats Aiden's shoulder. "Not like you'll be fucking him either, sweetheart. Even if he wanted a ditzy bitch like you, poor guy gets whiskey dick three drinks in."

She sputters out indignities while Aiden tries to argue the accusations. Lambert takes Aiden by the sides and lifts, helping guide him off of the chair without his drunk ass falling. Lambert considers telling the woman that Aiden is gay, but also doesn't want to get kicked out of the little cabin they're renting for the night, so he stays quiet and just smiles real big.

The woman shouts at him and demands he repay her for all the coin she spent buying Aiden drinks. Lambert merely shrugs at her and steers Aiden out of the tavern. Aiden tried to turn down every drink she bought, not Lambert's fault she pushed him.

It's a short walk, but Aiden is unsteady on his feet and far too loud for the time of night it is. Lambert's got half a mind to axii him and tell him to shut the fuck up, but that's rude and he's certain Aiden won't have any control over his feet anymore if he axii's him. So Lambert just sucks it up and leads Aiden to their temporary residence and shushes him when he gets too loud.

Drunk as he is, Aiden still manages to effectively pin Lambert to the door once they're inside. Aiden's got most of his weight pressed on Lambert to keep himself from falling, one leg firm between Lambert's thighs and the other's wrists held above their heads.

"You're drunk as fuck," Lambert points out, eyes closed and a smug smile on his lips while Aiden squeezes his wrists too tight. He's perfectly content to let Aiden suck marks on to his throat and grind against him

"You're a killjoy," Aiden mumbles against Lambert's neck. He nips the skin, not as mindful about his mouthful of razor teeth as he'd usually be and leaves an angry mark that makes Lambert hiss and buck his hips. "I was really lookin' forward to turnin' her down at the end of the night."

"What a shame," Lambert mocks, feeling the press of Aiden's erection on his thigh. "And let me guess, the remark about whiskey dick was uncalled for?"

Aiden bites his shoulder in response. Lambert's gear is thick enough that he only feels pressure, but on his bare skin Aiden would have undoubtedly drawn blood. Aiden trails sloppy kisses up his throat again, messily licks the shell of Lambert's ear. "Wanna fuck you."

"As exciting as the prospect of you drunkenly abusing my ass is, I'll have to pass. You're a little too fucked up for my taste."

He watches Aiden pout momentarily, idly rubbing himself on Lambert's leg. "Then give me something else?" It's phrased as a question, but Lambert knows it's more of a demand.

They find themselves at the bed, Aiden bare with his hair down, hips at the edge of the bed. Lambert's torso is bare, pants still on but unzipped and his cock in his hand. The bed is just tall enough for him to kneel at the edge and properly get his mouth around Aiden's dick, work him at his leisure.

Aiden is always quick to finish when he's this sloshed, so Lambert makes slow work of it. He uses his left hand to stroke what isn't in his mouth, working himself at the same pace with his right hand. Aiden pants and moans, far more receptive to the touch than he'd normally be.

Lambert works him leisurely, stroking the underside and head with his tongue. The scent of Aiden's natural musk fills his nose while the brine of precum already spikes on his tongue. It's not Lambert's favorite taste in the world but he soldiers through it. 

He almost has to let go of his own dick when Aiden starts pushing his hips up, but an elbow suffices to pin him down. Aiden runs his fingers through Lambert's hair as far as he can reach, pushing the other's head down to urge him to move faster. Lambert carries on at his tortuous pace.

"Lambert, please," Aiden whines. He pushes up against the arm pinning him, wiggles his hips in frustration. If Lambert still had a gag reflex, Aiden would have already pushed it over the edge.

Rather abruptly, Lambert pulls his hand off of Aiden's dick and take him down his throat, nose buried in the dark hair as the base of Aiden's cock. Aiden gasps and hisses out a noise of pleasure. Lambert works with small bobs of his head, listening to Aiden cry out while he swallows around the length in his mouth. Lambert works his own cock faster, feeling the sticky wetness of precum leaking out onto his fingers.

Sharp nails dig into Lambert's scalp. Aiden makes mindless sounds of pleasure, holding Lambert in place while his cries get louder, the edge of release coming closer and closer. Lambert doesn't get much warning, just a sharp pang of bitter on his tongue and a grunt, and he's swallowing as much as he can to keep Aiden's cum from running out of the corners of his mouth.

Once Aiden is spent, Lambert focuses on himself. He presses his forehead to Aiden's thigh, works his cock quick to chase his own release. His fingers are tacky and messy, catching on the skin of his dick. Aiden shivers.

"I can help," Aiden murmurs, moves away and slides onto the floor. The hard wood can't feel good on Aiden's bare knees, but he crawls over anyways.

He has half a mind to tell Aiden no, doesn't want a mouthful of drunken, uncoordinated razor sharp teeth anywhere near his dick. But Aiden knocks Lambert's hand away, gets his mouth around the head and laps away the precum like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

Aiden keeps his teeth pretty well covered while he works Lambert in his mouth, quick and messy. Lambert's head lulls back, and he keeps his hand firm on the base of Aiden's skull just to keep himself grounded.

Fuck- fuck, it's embarrassing how fast it builds up, how little warning Lambert is able to give before he spills into Aiden's mouth, shuddering and groaning low in his throat. Aiden swallows down as much of it as he can, but even sober he couldn't have managed to get it all.

Aiden looks up once he's pulled off. His pupils are blown, his long black locks hanging down in his face. A small dribble of Lambert's cum runs down the corner of his mouth, and Lambert surges forward to kiss him because _fuck_ that's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOOK ME ALL FUCKIN DAY BUT I FINISHED THIS ON TIME :D
> 
> It actually took me like a week to write this one because wow I suck big-time when it comes to sex scenes, blowjobs, etc.


	12. Legend

Lambert never caught the name of the town they're in, and he doesn't really care to learn it at this point. He and Aiden took care of a Leshen terrorizing the isolated village earlier in the afternoon, and as the sun began to set, the adults built and lit a bonfire to celebrate. There's strong alcohol and merrymaking and all sorts of food.

So he's not sure why he decided to sit around a tiny campfire at the corner of the village with Aiden and the eight children living there as well. It's still good, though, so he can't complain much. They all share a loaf of bread and a pitcher of juice whole Aiden tells tells stories.

"Now," Aiden starts. "Have any of you heard of wendigos?" His storyteller voice is out in full force, low and ominous.

"They're not real!" one of the children pipes up, a little girl with a fierce face and unruly curls.

"Oh, but they are. Let's see... I was six the only time I ever saw one. It was nearly dark out, and my teacher slash father figure, Kiyan, was training with me out in the woods near the old place the Cats call home." Aiden's eyes sparkle in the firelight, and Lambert can feel himself getting sucked into the story with the kids.

"We were training in the trees, doing some sneaky stealth training. Kiyan had just come out to correct me, with we heard this awful, piercing cry." He shivers as he remembers it. "It was so loud. Like a woman screaming all the air out of her lungs. We looked off further into the woods, and there it was. A gigantic, ancient wendigo. Kiyan knew that if I ran and he tried to fight it, it would come after me first. They like the chase, the thrill of catching their prey.

"See, they're not usually very fast, but they can jump very far and can rush someone if they really want to. So Kiyan picked me up and ran between the trees, so that it couldn't jump on us without hurting itself. He called for the other witchers as we got closer, and finally we had to go out in the open to get to the entrance."

Aiden shifts, and starts to undo the bottom buttons on his armor. "Its hands were huge. With the claws, it was almost as big as my whole body. Kiyan used the last of his energy and closed the distance to home, but-" He makes a loud ripping noise with his mouth, and rakes his hand across his right side.

He lifts his armor, and points to a scar on his ribcage. "It caught us with the tip of one claw. Cut me open there, caught Kiyan worse. If me and him stood front to front now, our scars would make a straight line."

The children stare up at him in awe. Even Lambert finds himself captivated by Aiden's story. He has no doubt Aiden is telling the truth. Lambert knows when Aiden embellishes, and this time he hears nothing but authenticity.

"But that's not the story I wanted to tell you. Wendigos were driven to extinction by other witchers when I was a very young man. Had to have been a good fifty, sixty years ago. The story I wanted to tell you is the legend of the first wendigo."

Lambert's heard a few variations of the wendigo legend. Around five, probably. He's certain the two that Vesemir told him were complete bullshit to scare young Lambert from sneaking out in the evenings, when the wendigos did still exist.

"When the Conjunction of Spheres happened, monsters were dropped into this world. By elven accounts, so were humans. But wendigos did not exist back then, no monster like it was brought into this world."

Aiden leans forward, his face illuminated by the flames. "We humans, we came to this continent and settled. We made our homes here in the open plains, in the woods, by the water. We learned to farm and hunt and gather, to get our own food. But after a time, a famine hit.

"There were not enough berries, not enough meat, not enough crops to feed everyone. It was fine for a while. It was sad for them, but they ate their pets and made do with the rations left from winter. But it only grew worse from there. Soon there were only bugs to eat, grass to chew on just for the taste. People began to die.

"In a cottage in the woods, high in a mountain, lived a family. The mother and father died before the famine, but their son and daughter were not spared with that kindness. The brother did his best to feed the two of them, hunted for whatever he could catch to have meat in their stew that night. The sister picked what she could, planted what few seeds she had left to regrow their garden. For a time, they made do. Drank peppermint tea to soothe their stomachs on nights when they had to go hungry. 

"But soon, the brother grew sick and perished. He had been too sick for days to hunt, and the sister's food dwindled to nothing as he passed. She was too weak to bury him, starving, and she was finally driven mad by her hunger. The sister did the unthinkable."

Aiden looks each child in the eyes, searches their expressions with a stony face. They wait with baited breath, eyes wide and mouths agape. He clasps his fingers together slowly, and drops his voice to barely be heard over the fire.

"She ate him."

A chorus of gasps rise. Each child has a varying degree of horror on their face, but look anxious, ready for him to go on.

"She could not believe what she had done. As she looked at her brother, just bones, and his blood on her hands and mouth, something in her mind broke for good. She was truly driven to insanity. She fled into the woods, intending to die there.

"But an evil spirit came across her. Took her over. It believed that since she had consumed the flesh of her kind, she deserved to look like the monster she was. Her flesh melted away in spots, exposing her bones. Where her skin stayed, she sprouted fur. She grew the head and antlers of a deer, the teeth of a wolf.

"As the final punishment, the only sound she could make was a scream. The same scream she made when she came to, with her brother's skin in her mouth and his blood on her clothes."

Aiden's mouth slowly blooms into a grin, his razor sharp teeth glinting. "They say on the darkest of nights, when the cold seeps into your bones and a deep hunger takes you, you can hear her scream echo for miles around, crying out in pain for the brother she devoured. Don't get out of your bed, because who knows what you'll do to fill your belly."

He stands abruptly, causing the children to jump and breaking the illusion he'd built. "Anyways, I drank too much juice and have to pee. I'll be back in a minute."

The kids immediately turn on Lambert, asking him dozens of questions about the legend. He answers them as best he can, unsure of some parts. He's never heard that particular version before, but it's similar enough to another that he-

He very nearly attacks when Aiden howls in fake pain from the edge of the woods, as deep and loud as his lungs will permit. Every child screams, and Lambert falls off of the log he's perched on in the scramble for his sword. Aiden sinks to his knees, laughing so hard that tears well in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were supposed to have wendigos in the base game and I'm kinda mad that we don't.


	13. Misdeeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence, murder, child death, and implied rape in this one.
> 
> Suffer with me.

Aiden was not always a good man. Raised nearly his entire life with the Cats, he picked up whatever he could to be an efficient witcher. He picked up the beliefs and values of his school, learned their ways of fighting and manipulation. Was taught to use a bow and arrow, and then a crossbow, with deadly precision. He learned to pick up contracts on just about anything. On anyone. Humans included, though it was and is strictly against witcher code.

He was taught that the trials change men. He leaned that he was not supposed to feel if he survived what should be a death sentence for the young boys, for witchers do not have emotions. So when he rose from the worst pain of his life, eyes amber and slitted with a stronger body and mind, he taught himself to be cold.

Aiden was not good when he was young, with his face still free of wrinkles and his attitude cocksure. He was not above beating a man to death with his fists, until his knuckles broke and he bled through his gloves. He had no problem with poisoning a well and watching all of the towns inhabitants die a painful death. He felt no remorse slitting a little girl's throat just to extract information from her mother, and then leaving the mother to bleed out when he got what he needed.

In parts, people knew if they needed a person taken care of, to go to him. The Cat, with dark hair and dark skin and something cold in his eyes. In some ways, Aiden was proud of the small reputation he had built for himself. A silver tongue and beautiful looks, and the loosest morals of any witcher he knew.

It was known that he would do whatever was asked of him if he was given the right amount. He had no qualms with his job. He would carve up a man if you didn't like his face. Burn down the house with your wife still in it, for taking another man. Smother the infant your mistress insisted she keep. Aiden was above nothing and would only turn down contracts for small pay.

He grew older, he gained scars and creases around his eyes. He still was an awful creature, until something changed. Something that made him stutter out and think twice for once.

The woman was an elf, pretty as far as ladies go. Aiden was given his pay in advance from a reeking man with dirty skin, simply telling Aiden to "make her gone". No specific instructions, so he cornered her in her kitchen and stabed her with his hunting knife. It was when he tried to leave, where he can pinpoint the change of the tide.

She staggered to her feet, grabbed his armor. He nearly stabbed her again because it was so unexpected for her to touch him. Strange as could be, she sobbed, held onto the man who was there to murder her, and begged him to stay because she didn't want to die alone.

It was shock that made him sit, he was sure. But he stayed. She leaned on him, ready to die, but her heart beat all through the night. Aiden couldn't bring himself to try to do her in again. Before the sun started to rise, he packed her a crude bag of her belongings, and rode out with her on the saddle with him.

The man only wanted her gone. It was all he said. It was implied that he wanted her dead, wouldn't have asked Aiden to do it otherwise. But Aiden made her gone, all the way to another town where she'd be safe from ugly men with bad intentions. Men like himself. The stark realization of what a piece of shit he was hit him like a tower crumbing down on his body.

It took a long time for him to learn how to feel again.

Lambert knows the story. All of the gory details, from waking up after the trials to handing the elf to an herbalist, begging to keep alive the woman he tried to kill. Aiden sobbed the story out to him one night, too drunk to stand, with the ghosts of his wrong doings haunting him once again. And Lambert, for his crude temper and shoddy sense of morals, forgave Aiden for his sins.

Aiden notches an arrow into place on a traditional bow. He's using Scoia'tael sharpshooting methods, truly better than any Cat method. He lines up the shot, arrowhead pointing to the back of a man's skull. Something ugly burns in his gut, something cold frosting his warm eyes. Knowing his story, he hopes that Lambert will trust him. And forgive him.

He releases arrow.

"What the fuck!" Lambert shouts, looking around for the assailant. Aiden abandons the bow and climbs down the cliff face as quick as he can, jogging until he reaches a seething Lambert. If looks could kill, Aiden would be withering.

"What the fuck!" Lambert repeats, angrier to time. His lip is curled, undoubtedly already thinking the worst of Aiden. "What the fuck did you do? We needed him to find the fucking beast! What are we going to tell his wife?"

"Just trust me and help me get rid of the body," Aiden says, looking down and the dead man splayed on decaying plant matter. Ugly mean, he is. Was. Filthy skin from the mines. Breath cut with booze.

"No, what in the fuck were you thinking?" Lambert spits, pushing Aiden back when he tries to pick up the body. "Why. The fuck. Did you. Kill him?"

"The mother asked me to get rid of the beast that attacked her daughter. So I did." Lambert starts to shout, but one his look at Aiden's face makes him stop. "She showed me the evidence while you two were gone. Kid's only twelve, you know? Sweet thing, she is. Covered in bruises from hands, a large man's specifically. A pair of small bloodstained panties, not from coming of age."

A look of realization, and then disgust dawns on Lambert's face. He looks down at the man on the ground. A ugly man with bad intentions who would never hurt anyone again.

"I was only doing what I was asked. The beast is dead. Now please, help me get rid of the sack of shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway to being finished!


	14. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU
> 
> Two bounty hunters being in love and shit

"Lambert?" Aiden calls from the kitchen as he hears the front door jiggle open. He works quick with the pan, avoiding burning the chicken but getting it to the perfect level of crispy and golden that they both like.

"Yeah," Lambert calls back, sounding haggard. He doesn't even bother to kiss Aiden hello, just plops his ass into the nearest kitchen chair and lets loose a long sigh. Aiden dares a look up from his cooking and glances at the other.

In the politest terms, Lambert looks like shit. Bruises on his face, split lip, swollen nose, and Aiden can see a small spatter of blood dried on his shirt. "Shit. I'm guessing work was rough today?" Aiden asks, transferring chicken onto their waiting plates. He makes sure to soak Lambert's rice with the chicken juice from the bottom of the pan.

"Rough is a word for it," Lambert grumbles. "Guy nicknamed Leshen dipped out on a $45,000 bail. Found him walking to the 7/11 over by Eskel's place, because, y'know, I totally wasn't actually out in that area to get an ICEE. Tried to apprehend him, except the fuck was hopped up on meth and beat the shit out of me." 

Aiden makes a face as he sets their plates down. "Thought you weren't gonna take that one."

Lambert shrugs his coat off and tosses his shirt in the general direction of the laundry room. His torso is just as bruised as Aiden figured. "Didn't plan to, but since no one would take it, they offered a 15% commission rate." He shakes his head. "That extra $6,750 in the bank could help. Get us a new bedframe and a down payment for a new car for you, one that isn't a piece of shit."

"You leave Violet alone, she's a perfectly good car even if she does make scary noises sometimes," Aiden argues around a mouthful of peas and carrots. There's a few moment of silence as the two of them stuff their faces. "And what's wrong with the bedframe?"

"We cracked it in like four spots, it's gonna give out any day now. It's being held together with duct tape, gorilla glue, and prayers at this point." Lambert shakes his head, faintly smirking to himself. He has plans to absolutely _destroy_ the frame (and Aiden) the night before they replace it. "Long story short, I did manage to catch him, and the bail bonds place gave me an extra $200 to go the urgent care clinic and make sure my nose wasn't broken."

Aiden snorts. "Things are usually a lot more tame at my agency. Why didn't Geralt take it, doesn't he usually take the things no one else will?"

Lambert gets up and heads to the fridge. Much to the disgust of Aiden, Lambert takes a few long drinks straight from a carton of juice. "Usually, yeah, but he and Yen had their respective testing today. They're still having no luck conceiving. They won't know Yen's results for a while, but Geralt has a sperm count of like, three, so the issue may be him."

"One, you're fucking nasty, use a cup you savage. Second, we need different jobs. Bounty hunting pays pretty well, but shit. It's dangerous and we come home fucked up pretty often." Aiden gestures towards his eye patch, a permanent reminder of the knife to the face for fucking up a job. He gets up and clears his plate away, and stores Lambert's half eaten dinner away for later. "You do the dishes?"

"Yeah, I'll get them after I shower. But what the fuck would I do? Office job?" Lambert asks, leaning against the counter. He speaks an an awful high pitched, nasally voice and mimes tightening a tie. "Hello, this is Bullshit Insurance Agency, where our only motive is to swindle you out of as much money as humanly possible."

Aiden laughs, and Lambert carries on, albeit in his actual voice this time. "Fuckin', can you imagine me at a normal job? Can you even imagine the word "normal" associated with me?" He shakes his head. "Knowing us, we were probably monster hunters or some shit in another life."

With a flourish of fake passion, Aiden collapses back on the counter and caresses the side of his own face, fingertips touching his eye patch. "In that other life, tragedy befell me and this wound killed me, leaving you without your lover."

Lambert snorts. "Yeah, yeah, you dramatic shit. Speaking of lovers, wanna go fuck up the bed some more?"

"Maybe after you shower," Aiden says with a sweet smile, leaning in to give him a slow, gentle kiss. "Not to be a dick, but I can totally tell you forgot to put on deodorant before work this morning."

"Rude," Lambert says with a mock scowl, but pads off to the bathroom. Out of view of Aiden, he sniffs one of his pits and gags a little. "Alright, that's fair," he calls, before stepping into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my 20th birthday!!! For the sake of celebration, I'll be posting two prompts tonight!


	15. Obvious

It makes something in Lambert's chest twist to see the woman hanging off of Aiden like a prize. One of Aiden's hands runs down her hip, squeezes her ass, and comes back up to her waist. The way she comes up on her toes and kisses his jaw looks so natural, the way the poorly hidden purple and red love bites on his throat do. Her deep red lipstick stands out on his bronze skin.

The rest of this unknown town celebrates their new marriage. It's festive and merry, but Lambert sits off to the side, stewing as he drinks something shitty out of a mug. Aiden's medallion is put away, eyes low-lidded enough that his pupils look human. He and the woman look like your average newlywed couple.

They're wearing matching gold rings, Aiden and the woman. He calls her Glory before smiling and kissing her. It makes Lambert feel sick as he toys with Aiden's silver ring, tucked away in a pocket so Aiden can wear a fake ring while he's fake married to a real girl pressing her real mouth to his.

A man seats himself next to Lambert. He smells something atrocious, his hair unwashed and his fingernails black around the handle of his own mug. It takes a lot of will power to not recoil away from the stench when the man opens his mouth to speak.

"You look real down lad, he yer mate?" Lambert grunts an affirmative, uninterested in conversation. Undeterred, the man continues. "Aye, I know how it is. They meet a lass that opens her legs just right and suddenly it's all about marriage and family and babies. Seen it happen all my life."

Lambert nods. "Week ago he wanted to break it off with her. Today he married her. Have no fucking clue why, not like she's pregnant or anything. He's been my best friend for years and now he barely looks at me, can't talk about anything that isn't her." He shakes his head and drinks half his alcohol in one go. "Just want my best friend back."

Next to him, the disgusting man nods slow. "I see, I see. You know, I can make her disappear for you. Get your mate back. Done it 'afore, pretty redhead she was, never found her body, no one asked me 'bout her. It'll cost a good few pounds o' copper, but I can make her gone within a week."

Glory laughs, loud and high. Lambert looks up in time to see her and Aiden press their foreheads together, smiling wide. For the thousandth time, they kiss. Lambert feels like throwing up.

"... How much copper are we talking?"

 

"It was definitely him," Lambert tells Aiden and Glory once they reach the rendezvous point later that night. "Flat told me he was the one who killed the girl. Offered to deal with Glory when I made it obvious that I wasn't happy about the 'marriage'." He elaborates rest of the conversation, scowling the entire time. It doesn't sit well in his stomach.

Glory scowls. "Disgusting old fuck." 

Aiden puts his medallion back on, and offers his gold ring to Glory. "Figures. He fits the stereotype well enough. So what do we do about him? Can't just kill him."

"Well why not? You have an admission of guilt, guy told you how much it would take for him to kill me and hide my body." Lambert adverts his eyes while Glory changes out of the wedding dress and into something more comfortable.

"We try not to kill humans if we don't have to," Aiden explains, changing back into his own clothes as well. "We need a plan."

Lambert buttons the back of Glory's dress when she asks. "What I'm thinking is you and I "go on a trip". Make sure the guy is lured into the general vicinity of Glory. She gets herself roughed up, bruises and messy hair and the likes. She runs screaming for help, blames him, you and I conveniently come back because we forgot something. I "break down" and admit to the townies what happened, yada yada. I imagine the two of you get the gist."

They work out the plan, refine the fine edges. It's good. Plausible. They escort Glory home, and she hugs Lambert tight around the neck when they say goodnight.

"Sorry about having to kiss all over him. I could tell you didn't have to act about how upset you were. It's obvious how much you love him," Glory says soft in his ear. She presses a red kiss to his cheek. "Now go put that silver ring of his back on his finger, he looks naked without it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update for the day, as I'm feeling festive for my birthday! Hope you enjoyed suffering with me!


	16. Paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no I fell in love with the modern AU
> 
> Warning for violence

In a strange turn of events, Lambert is home before Aiden for once. He's a bit irritated about having to bring in a metric ton of groceries by himself but he gets over it and starts scheming in the empty kitchen.

He and Aiden have a simple agreement of trading off on chores. Aiden sweeps, Lambert mops. Lambert dusts, Aiden vacuums. One cleans the toilet and sink, the other gets the tub and mirror. They build their chore list around compromise. Aiden always cooks, and Lambert puts leftovers away and does the dishes.

Except for tonight. Aiden had mentioned wanting to start eating vegetarian for loosely based religious reasons. Lambert bought a fuckload of groceries so Aiden could do so. There's no way in hell he's going to pass up Aiden's delicious fucking cooking just because he still wants meat in his own diet. He'll still have a burger or something at lunch, but _nothing_ compares to Aiden's made from scratch Indian food. Even the stuff with no meat.

But still. Aiden isn't home. Even though he's banned from making anything more complex than eggs because he's a fire risk, Lambert sets about cooking dinner. He can't remember the name for the life of him, but he makes some kind of lentil based dish that the both of them like. It goes pretty well, with a minimum of burnt food.

His phone buzzes on the counter while he struggled to not over cook other veggies. Aiden's name pops up on the ID. "The fuck do you want?" Lambert asks, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

"Is this Lambert?" a woman questions from the other end, unphased by his greeting. That's... not right. If someone was calling from Aiden's phone it would be a man, Aiden only works with men.

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"Annalisa, a nurse at Clearview hospital. There's been an accident, and you're listed as Mr. Patel's in case of emergency contact in his phone, and in our systems as well."

Lambert's blood runs cold, and the noise of the kitchen drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. "Accident? Where the fuck happened, is he okay?" He knows he should turn the stove off, but he can't move.

"I'm not allowed to release many details over the phone. Mr. Patel suffered a knife wound through the eye and we're not sure how far in it went. We don't know if it pierced his brain, or if the socket was damaged, but we do know his eye was mostly destroyed. He's currently undergoing emergency surgery to assess and repair the damage." She gives him directions and instructions of where to go once he gets to the hospital.

The food is burning. He can smell it, the thick cloying stench filling his nose. Lambert needs to go, like, right now. He needs to turn off the stove, cover the food, and leave. Doesn't even need to change out of his pajamas pants. Can break into his emergency stash of cigarettes and smoke half the pack while he tries not to speed through town.

But for the moment, he's paralyzed in place, hand gripped on the counter while his ears ring in the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if the eye thingy doesn't make sense, in the game Jad Karadin or whatever it is says that Aiden is killed with an arrow through the eye.


	17. Quest

The men at the notice board are from Toussaint, Lambert can tell that much right off. Plated armor with ornate metal flowers and bright colors, and the Duchy is the only place where armor tends to be beautiful. One offers Aiden the parchment, the other talks in the general direction of the two witchers. Several monster nests clustered together, all coexisting with the others and growing bigger as the weeks go on. It's a job too big for the guards. Perfect for a witcher, but there are none left in Toussaint. The pay is substantial. One asks which of the two of them will take the contract.

"We both will," Aiden tells them, right as Lambert was about to decline all together. Lambert bites his tongue as Aiden negotiates terms, because his temper is out and it's not polite to yell at your boyfriend. They're given a third of the pay up front for gear and weapons, and promised the rest once the nests are removed.

"I fucking hate Toussaint," Lambert hisses once the guards have left. "I hate that place so much I'd willingly cut off my fucking left stone to never have to see it again. I'd gladly be called "One Nut Lambert" for the rest of my life to never have to return to that mosquito ridden hellhole."

Aiden rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic. It's barely inside the border of Toussaint anyways."

They argue over it for a good while. Lambert doesn't want to go, flat out. Hates the fucking place. Too bright, too stuffy and formal, and he's not overly fond of all of the acid spitting creatures. Doesn't want Aiden to go either, not by himself, he's shit at combat and might not come back alive. Aiden threatens to go alone out of spite. He has other business to attend to there anyhow. Neither are proud of it, but it devolves into a screaming match when they can't find a compromise.

It also doesn't help when Aiden bursts into tears mid-sentence. It's crocodile tears, every bit of it, but Lambert can feel his resolve starting to crumble while he waits for Aiden to stop. Manipulative prick.

 

 

"This is kinda fucked up."

"Think of it as a... as a quest!" Aiden says cheerfully, scratching at his burned skin. There's an acid patch seared clear through his armor where an archespore got him with a well placed shot. His skin looks particularly angry where he's dragging his nails across it. The whole thing will probably scar. "We saved the day, and now they're paying us back with riches and jewels!"

Lambert still isn't happy to be here. Place is still too bright for him, even near the border. He's got dozens of mosquito bites because mosquitos will drink the blood of anything, witchers included. On top of that, a centipede missed him with its acidic spit, but somehow managed to bite the shit out of him. He's a little cranky still.

... But the thousand coin he's about to make for the destroyed super nest _does_ improve his mood a little. "You just wanna make it sound better because we're ransacking an abandoned village," Lambert points out, rubbing the centipede bite while he scans the room for anything else.

Aiden dumps the contents of a jewelry box into his pack, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lambert's eyes roll so hard he's scared they may pop out of the sockets, and heads to the upper level to see if anything else good has been left. He's not particularly one for theft, but the place has been abandoned for several years and no one came back for their things, so...

"Hey Aiden? Since we're the only ones here, wanna pick a house for the night and destroy a bed?" he calls down while digging through a set of drawers.

"You read my mind, love."


	18. Rewind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some minor violence, though it's consensual

If he could rewind life, go back and change things, Lambert would do it in a heartbeat. He wouldn't change too much, his life would be too different then. But there are key points, little things that he would do differently if he could. He's had it all thought out for years, adding and removing events as things occur. 

He would take more of the abuse from his father if it meant never seeing his mother's beautiful blue eyes swollen shut and blackened at the lids. Made sure to have drank a little more just to have that much extra when he pissed in his father's ashes. Would have kissed Aiden a lot sooner, a whole lot sooner. Probably would have turned down Kiera because even though he does love her to a degree, she's not right for him and it's getting harder and harder to try to leave. Definitely tell Eskel that even with the scars, he's beautiful and Lambert kind of loves him too, though Eskel is straight as an arrow. Would have begged Aiden not to leave the last night that Lambert ever saw him alive.

On that last note, it's not really a surprise when Lambert wakes up on that last evening, with the first dredges of dawn starting to peek on the horizon. He's curled in the middle of the bed, soaking up the warmth even though he's sweating in the summer heat. Aiden is across the room, half dressed. He looks up at Lambert's form while quietly trying to fasten his belt buckle.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Aiden says, straightening his belt. He looks around for the top of his gear, which Lambert knows is kicked most the way beneath the empty under the bed. "Go back to sleep, Lambert."

Lambert is just lucid enough that he can recognize that this mostly feels like every other dream. He wasn't awake when Aiden left, but this is usually how his brain tells him it would have went. Usually, he watches Aiden dress, come to kiss him, and then leave, all while Lambert tries to find his voice and beg Aiden with everything he's got to not leave. So it comes as a surprise when he hears his own sleep rough voice croak out "Don't go." 

Aiden looks up from his searching, and breaks into a small smile. His boots click on the floor as he crosses the room to Lambert, puts one knee on the mattress and leans in for a long, slow kiss. "I can stay a little longer for you, always."

"No, I mean... _Don't go._ " Lambert's throat feels tight, as if he might cry. This feels too different from the usual dream, way too different. He sits up and grips the blankets. "You'll die if you go."

"You have a nightmare about it?" Aiden's brows are knit together, looking concerned. He touches Lambert's back, and for as hot as it is in the room, Aiden's hands are ice cold. It sends a jolt down his spine, and he doesn't wake up. Cold touches _always_ wake him up, it's Geralt's shitty but effective method.

What the fuck. Why isn't he waking up?

"Slap me," Lambert demands, and the look of concern from Aiden grows deeper. "Just, I need to be convinced you aren't a dream. Words won't be enough. Fucking, slap me. Make it count."

Aiden hesitates, but ultimately decides to without a fight. Lambert's asked stranger things of him before. He pulls the two rings off of his right hand and gestures for Lambert to turn to him. Lambert closes his eyes, can hear the shift of the air as Aiden rears back. The hand connects, so hard that his head snaps to the side and the taste of blood fills his mouth. But he still doesn't believe that he's really awake. 

But he has to believe it, because when he opens his eyes, Aiden is still there. 

It's not the way he always thought about it. His little daydream plan was always to tell Aiden what happens, step by step from what he learned, and then convince him not to go by whatever means necessary. 

Instead, the dam abruptly breaks and he sobs the story out of order into Aiden's shoulder, seated in his lap and wrapped around him like an inconsolable child. He's not one to cry, but he also is touching a man who should be dead, a man who he happens to love. Lambert tells about the contract for the little royal girl, every detail he learned even though Aiden insists Lambert shouldn't know about the contract at all. Aiden frowns when Lambert talks about Jad, because he never liked the guy and never mentioned him to Lambert.

By some fucking miracle, he somehow manages to get Aiden to agree not to take the contract through a mixture of begging, threatening, and blubbering like a baby. Watches Aiden burn up the rectangle of parchment over a candle until it's ash on the table. 

Lambert stumbles off the bed, falls back into Aiden's arms and kisses him for a long fucking time. "Let's go up Kaer Morhen, right now. There's a lot to be done and I want you to meet Vesemir. Wanna take you to the lake and show you how to fish with bombs." He presses his forehead against Aiden's. "I know I sound fucking crazy. I don't know what I did to deserve to be back here to stop you from going, but I'm not going to waste a minute of the time I have with you. Do you trust me?""

"You do sound fucking crazy," Aiden tells him. "But there's no reason for you to fuck with me like this. Stranger things have happened. So... Yeah, yeah I trust you. With everything I've got, I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter in particular has an actual mini fic that was written before it. It's called Compete, and you can find it [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12298860)


	19. Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no ship is good without sex pollen
> 
> Warning for sex obvs, and another warning that it's really incoherent at times because they real fucked up on that sex pollen yo
> 
> Also some minor masochism

His eyes fucking _burn_ , what the fuck. Lambert rubs his watering eyes, hissing at the contact. Fuck, the liquid is in his eyes now. His skin feels hot, way too much to be normal. "What the fuck is that, Aiden?"

"Which did you open?" Aiden's trying to wipe the liquid off of his face with his hands. He speaks like his tongue is too big in his mouth, and yeah, Lambert feels much the same.

The vial lays discarded on the cave, where it was dropped. Lambert had tried to pull the cork out, and succeeded in showering himself and Aiden in the faces with the mysterious light purple juice. Oddly vanilla scented. "Shit was just called "pollen". What, what the fuck is this, where'd you get it?" His head is starting to feel foggy.

"Fuck! Pollen?" Aiden wipes his face with his sleeve. "Remember how I said I have other business to take care of in Toussaint? I had an alchemist friend who wanted me to test some chemicals. The one you splashed us with was an extremely potent pheromone given as a thanks for participating. He said just a few drops would have someone in the mood within an hour." Aiden lets out an exasperated sigh and begins shucking his clothes. "We're covered in the whole bottle, shit. Glad this cave is out of the way, then."

Confused, Lambert watches Aiden strip down to nothing. He follows suit when Aiden tells him to, saying that he's not gonna know how to work a buckle soon. He's already half hard, and his brain is cloudy. Aiden comes to him, eyes already glassy, and kisses him. The contact sears Lambert's skin, the sweet heat of it burns low in his gut and makes him feel like he's going to melt into a puddle.

Soon enough, he doesn't even know why he needs this much oil, fingers saturated with it while he messily works Aiden open. He slicks his cock before pressing in, Lambert knows that much. Aiden shudders and whines, legs splayed open on their twin bedrolls. He works in to the hilt and it feels so fucking good that he almost finishes then and there. He's still got enough sense to know he needs to make it good for Aiden, so he works in uncoordinated thrusts while he jerks Aiden with his still oiled hand.

Aiden comes so hard that he nearly blacks out, back arching and clenching down around Lambert like a vice. Lambert shouts out when he spills out, which is fairly quick after Aiden. They're both sticky and soaked in sweat, and only get about 10 minutes to rest before Aiden decides it's time to do it again.

He rides Lambert this time, coming down hard enough that they both might bruise. It hurts, Aiden isn't slick enough on the inside anymore, but he relishes in the pain, does it harder until he comes in messy ropes on Lambert's chest. Lambert is boneless beneath him having already come a second time, only hard from the nonstop stimulation. He shudders when Aiden climbs off. His brain is a mess. He doesn't... Aiden doesn't like cum in him. When did he let Lambert do it twice?

But he gets lost, completely loses his train of thought when Aiden gets on his knees, coaxes Lambert forward. Lambert can taste the remainder of the oil on Aiden's cock as he takes it into his mouth, can taste the salty bite of precum on the back of his tongue. Aiden is gentle at least, doesn't choke Lambert even when he dick is down Lambert's throat. There's no warning when Aiden comes, and it tastes fucking awful, so Lambert spits it on the ground.

Lambert takes Aiden by the hair, pulls him down and fucks his mouth, listening to Aiden moan around him. Aiden loves shit like this, loves being manhandled and verbally degraded. Loves Lambert to pull his hair until tears well in his eyes, fuck his throat until it's raw.

The evening is a haze of friction, of too little oil and too much want to contain in their skin.

  


  


  


" _Fuck_ ," Lambert hisses curling in on himself when he wakes. What time is it? How many times did they fuck? His head feels like absolute shit, his balls  _ache_ from how many times he must have come.

His skin is sticky and disgusting. Dried cum flakes on his chest, between his cheeks. His ass hurts. Used too little oil probably, even when he's not fucked up, Aiden is too impatient to do it the right way.

Aiden.

Lambert sits up, looks around for him. When he can't find Aiden, he finds his undershorts and goes out to look for him. How whole body hurts, feels like he got punched by a rock troll. The sun is low in the sky, much the same position it was when they set up camp. A day must have passed at least. 

He finds Aiden in a stream, washing himself off. Lambert joins him without a word, looking at the healing bruises blooming across their bodies. Aiden winces as he runs his fingers through his wet hair. Fucking hell.

"Never again," Aiden mutters. His voice is scratchy. "I'm getting rid of all those bottles. Never again."

Lambert agrees.


	20. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for injury, reckless thrill seeking, lil bit of sex
> 
> Short and sweet. This one works its way back in time, from most to least recent.

The leather of Aiden's gauntlet is thicker than his own, so Lambert clenches it between his teeth while Aiden sterilizes the arrow wound in his shoulder. The vodka burns worse than the touch truthfully. Lambert hisses air through his nose as Aiden gets another clean cloth and swabs it again. 

He hears the bottle again, another cloth moving, and then the metallic sound of Aiden unsheathing his trophy hunting knife. It send a shiver down Lambert's bare spine as he listens to Aiden clean the knife. A bottle of Swallow sits nestled between Lambert's thighs, ready to be drank as soon as the wound is dealt with.

"You trust me?" Aiden asks. Lambert gives a sharp, curt nod. Wouldn't let him to this if he didn't trust him.

"Alright." Aiden presses his hand to Lambert's back in a comforting gesture before moving it to the wound. "Count of three. One, two... three." At that, Aiden presses the tip of the knife into Lambert's shoulder to hopefully dig out the broken arrowhead. As easy as butter, the knife slices into the skin. Lambert bites down on Aiden's gauntlet and tries not to scream.

 

 

"Trust me!" Lambert shouts over the roar of the waterfall. He stands in just his skivvies, grinning almost maniacally. Aiden vigorously shakes his head no, backing away with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

"No fucking way!"

Aiden cautiously regards Lambert when he wades across the river and offers a bear hug. "Come on, you think I'd let you get hurt or something? Just after a bit of fun!"

Again, Aiden shakes his head. "Not a fucking chance, Lambert."

With a shrug, Lambert releases him from the embrace and walks backwards through the river stream until his feet reach the edge of the cliff. "Alright then, that's on you! Have fun climbing back down in your underclothes!" With as much grace as someone like Lambert can manage, he flips backwards off of the edge and shouts gleefully the whole way down.

Aiden peers over the edge as Lambert splashes into the pool below, and surfaces after a moment. He's not focused in so he can't hear what Lambert yells up at him, but Aiden can assume what it is.

With a deep breath for courage, Aiden gracelessly jumps and flails the whole way down. He can hear Lambert laughing, not unkindly, before he even surfaces. Aiden pops up, taking in air and wiping the thick mass of wet hair from his face. He turns to Lambert, and is rewarded with a kiss for his efforts.

 

 

"Have a little faith, trust me," Aiden says softly, kissing at Lambert's throat and shoulders to soothe him. "Promise I'll stop if you want me to, won't do anything you don't like."

With a swallow, Lambert gives a nod and nervously spreads his thighs back open. He sits up enough to watch Aiden's hand disappear between his legs, feels the press of two slicked fingers at his hole a moment later. Lambert rests his head back, reaches down and strokes his softening cock back to hardness. Slowly as he can, Aiden works his fingers back into Lambert, stretching him open.

He curls his fingers, works his magic until Lambert's relaxed, groaning low in his throat. Aiden presses in to the knuckles, testing how far he can push while Lambert all but drools while he moans, legs open and inviting. Stark contrast from earlier when he freaked out the first time Aiden tried to stretch him.

Aiden pulls his fingers out after a little longer, looks for the oil. He slicks his cock and kneels between Lambert's thighs, looks to Lambert's face for permission to continue. He gets it in the form of Lambert dragging him down for a kiss and hissing "fuck me" in Aiden's ear.

It feels like pure bliss when Aiden sinks into him, slow and firm. For all his fuss earlier, Lambert's back arches and he groans low in his chest.

 

 

"Jeez Aiden, calm down and trust me. Not like I'm inexperienced. I cut all the other Wolves hair when I see them in the winter."

"Not your experience I'm distrusting," Aiden says through gritted teeth as Lambert manhandles him into a chair. "Can't say I'm fond of having a sharp pair of scissors near my neck. Last time I had my hair cut was like 10 years ago when I saw Gaetan last."

"Okay, one," Lambert starts, brushing out the cascading falls of Aiden's hair. "One, I'm nowhere near your neck, you hair is down your fucking back. Two, bring brutally honest I can tell you haven't had your hair cut in ten years, your ends are absolute shit. Give me a little trust. Trust me enough to let me stick stuff in your ass but not trim your hair?"

Aiden sits still, not having a counter point that doesn't basically scream "I DON'T TRUST ANYONE". He does his best not to shudder when he hears the first snip of the scissors, closes his eyes and wills himself to relax. Lambert's fingers rake through his hair, scissors clipping the split ends as he works. He bites his cheek and reminds himself that yeah, he does trust Lambert, he isn't gonna hurt him with the scissors.

Soon enough, Lambert is done. He places the scissors where Aiden can see them and lightly brushes the curtain of hair away from one side of Aiden's neck. Aiden shivers when Lambert's lips press to the junction between neck and shoulder.

"Much better," Lambert murmurs, and kisses the skin again.


	21. Ugliest

They've seen every angle of the other, know every nook and cranny and every odd mannerism. Every funny look, each gesture and grunt. The good, the bad, and definitely the ugly.

Lambert's lost his temper before, forgetting or maybe not caring that it's impolite to raise your voice at your partner. Yelled at Aiden until his throat was raw and his ears were ringing, threw every dirty insult he could to rub salt in the wound. Screamed over him every time Aiden tried to speak until Lambert couldn't even hear himself think.

Aiden's lost himself before as well, curled into a puddle on the ground as his anxiety got the best of him. Sobbed and had snot and tears making a mess of his face, recoiling away from Lambert's touch. Inconsolable until the panic wore off, and even then couldn't bear any contact lest he go back to being a mess.

They take each other as they are, which is often at their ugliest. The anger, the tears, broken knuckles and bared teeth. Neither pretend they're perfect men, because they're not. 

Lambert's seen the cold ugliness that sits hidden in Aiden's gut, seen him take it out on men who deserve it and wonders about the people that didn't deserve it, but Aiden did it anyway. Aiden's watched Lambert's boiling fury splash over, seen him with blood on his teeth, and in his hair, and on his skin. Screamed at nothing until his voice went out because there aren't enough bones in Lambert's body to contain his rage.

They aren't perfect men. But they try, fuck do they try. 

Aiden soothes him like taking a frothing pot from the fire. Cools the anger beneath Lambert's meat with delicate touches, soft words, and shitty jokes. Tells him steam is gonna pour out of his ears if he keeps it up much longer. And most it the time, it works.

Lambert treads the unknown seas of Aiden's unfeeling state. Warms the ice in Aiden's eyes, throws choice jabs and insults until Aiden gets angry. Anger is better than nothing at all. Lambert would take Aiden's anger over Aiden feeling nothing at all.

But fuck, both of them would be lying if they said they didn't want the ugly. They're there for the good, the bad, and every little bit in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. Struggled with this one. Steam starts running out the closer I get to the end, but am doing my best.


	22. Vacant

Aiden sits with his feet hanging off the edge of the cliff, the noise of Novigrad ever-present in the background. He stares out vacantly at the ocean with a slight downward tilt to his mouth. It looks like he may cry, but his eyes are dry.

"I have a question," he says, not looking up from the water. Lambert keeps his arms crossed against his chest, concern bubbling in his chest. When Lambert doesn't answer, Aiden starts again. "Did you have dreams when your parents died?"

"What do you mean?" Lambert asks, moving to sit on Aiden's right.

"Like a goodbye dream. Didn't you say you had a dream that your mom came to talk to you, tell you goodbye? And when you went to your home she passed the day your dreamed it?"

The memory sits heavy in Lambert's gut. "Yeah. Same happened with my father. Took mom's ashes and spread them in Toussaint so she could have a beautiful afterlife, after of the shit he put her through. Pissed in my father's and then threw the urn into a drowner filled lake."

Aiden nods. His eyes are still dry, but his posture is slowly slipping into a slouch. "Had a couple dreams many years back, think it was my biological parents. They spoke to me in a language that I barely recognized. I didn't understand a word of it, but knew exactly what they were saying if that makes sense?"

Lambert grunts an affirmative. "What brought this up?"

Next to him, Aiden slumps. Tears immediately gloss his eyes, but he doesn't cry. "Had a dream about Kiyan last night."

"He's the one who brought you here from Ofier, right? The one who raised you?" Lambert feels stupid for asking, of course that's who fucking Kiyan is. Aiden's only mentioned him about a million times.

Aiden takes it in stride. "Yeah. Him. Came to me last night. We were in the garden at the old Cat base, just sitting around and chatting. He told me that he was bad at showing it but he loved me. Always thought of me as his son. Was sorry for always being so cold. Proud of me and the man I've become, despite how I started off." 

Lambert reaches over and swipes a tear from Aiden's cheek. He doesn't seem to notice. "Got up and hugged me the way he used to when I was a kid, told me he loved me again and that this was goodbye. And than I woke up."

Aiden stares out over the water. Lambert scoots closer, pressing their thighs together. He leans into it when Aiden rests his head on Lambert's shoulder.

"For such a cold, unfeeling man, he sure acted human for once." Aiden shakes his head, pulling hairs from his ponytail as his hair catches on Lambert's armor. In a quiet, broken voice, Aiden murmurs "I think he's really gone."

Lambert doesn't know what to do. He can handle Aiden's panic attacks with no problem, but the sadness oozing from him is breaking Lambert's fucking heart. He puts his arm around Aiden's shoulder and pulls him in a little closer, watching the water ripple and wave in the wind. It's all he can think to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recall, Mad Kiyan is a Witcher you can encounter in a lab under Novigrad. Tortured until he lost his mind, body shredded away to meat and bones, and possibly possessed by a demon.
> 
> Fun shit.


	23. Worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure hope you guys like modern AU as much as I do

Lambert worried a lot as a kid. The phycologist from the CPS agency said it was normal for abused children to be anxious, expected even. It reached its peak when he was placed with his fifth-cousin-four-times-removed who was called "Uncle Vesemir" for simplicity's sake. He was scared of this new home with a strange man he'd never met with two other distant relatives who were almost adults themselves, placed with Vesemir for similar reasons as Lambert.

But it calmed down. Vesemir rarely even raised his voice, let alone ever raised his hand other than to touch Lambert's back and put him in time out as punishment, not beat his face black and blue. Eskel and Geralt bullied him for being an annoying shit, but were never outright mean. Pushed him around a little, smeared deodorant on the rim of his cup, turned everything in his room upside down, normal "older sibling" type shit. As expected by his case worker, Lambert adjusted and grew out of his anxiety by the time he was about 15.

 

It comes back in his late twenties, once he gets with Aiden. Aiden makes him fucking _worry_. 

Aiden calls not long after they first start seeing each other at two in the fucking morning, sounding sheepish. Tells Lambert that his car broke down in a not-so-nice part of town. "Getting it towed to my friend's mechanic shop, he's gonna take care of it in the morning, but the tow guy was rude and..."

So Lambert shows up at the shitty corner store were there's been seven robberies and two murders in the past year and accepts the prepackaged honeybun that Aiden offers him. Listens to Aiden tease him about his Cookie Monster pajama pants while he drives.

"They're good pants, fuck you," he says around a mouthful of sugary pastry. "Do I need to worry about getting you to work tomorrow, too?"

Aiden smiles, a little embarrassed, his cheeks flushed pink under the fluorescent light shining through the windshield. "Yeah, probably."

 

Or another time, when he calls Lambert from the hospital while Lambert's shoveling lo mein into his face. He grunts into the phone in response and loudly slurps noodles to indicate his mouth is full.

"So hey," Aiden starts. He sounds like he's buzzed, a slight slur to his speech. "Sorry I haven't answered you in a while." He chuckles nervously. "Things got out of hand trying to capture a guy and I was kinda knocked unconscious."

Lambert swallows down half-chewed food, nearly choking himself. "What the fuck happened? Are you okay? Jesus fucking Christ, Aiden."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright. They admitted me to the hospital because, you know, unconscious. I've got a pretty bad concussion, but that's not the problem-"

"The fuck you mean it isn't a problem?"

Aiden laughs. "Shut up. The problem is I can't be discharged until someone can drive me. Kiyan is out of town, and besides you, the only person I could ask to get me is my ex-boyfriend, so..." He lets the silence hang between them.

"Let me put on some pants," Lambert says with a sigh. "I'll even be kind enough to share my Vietnamese."

 

His _favorite_ is when Aiden gets the death threats. Lambert's more angry than worried in the beginning, the anger directed more at the bail bond agency that Aiden works for. Making a goddamn man with just a taser go after the brother of a prolific gang member for not paying his bond back.

Aiden insists he's okay, he's gotten death threats before. It comes with their line of work, hasn't Lambert gotten death threats before?

"That's not the fucking point, Aiden! You're not fucking safe while this kid has it out for you." Lambert leans back against the flimsy wall of Aiden's kitchen in his shitty apartment.

"Like I said, it's happened before." Aiden knocks back the rest of his coffee and sets the mug on the table. Lambert doesn't fail to notice Aiden has closed the blinds and drawn all his curtains shut. "Not the first time, not the last time either. I'll be fine, Lambert."

Lambert scowls. He stands up straight and fixes a glare on Aiden. Crosses his arms and puts on a stern voice that would make Vesemir proud.

"You've got two choices whether you like them or not. One, I bring my .22 and shotgun and stay with you for a while for protection. Two, you pack some shit and stay with me. Either way, you're gonna be looking for a new place. Non negotiable."

 

There also tends to be an upside when he worries.

 

"Did you want me to take you home, or do you wanna just stay at my place tonight?" Lambert asks at a stoplight, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

"It's twenty minutes to your place, and forty to mine. You're tired as shit and I'm not gonna make you go out of your way any more than you already have," Aiden says, hand on Lambert's thigh.

Lambert _is_ tired as shit and tempted to pull over to ask Aiden to drive, until Aiden's hand creeps up a little higher on his leg. And higher, and higher, until he's palming Lambert's growing erection through the flimsy pajama bottoms. Lambert keeps his eyes firmly on the road, wide awake now as he hears a soft click of a seatbelt unbuckling. Doesn't look away from dead city streets when Aiden lets out a soft laugh, merely lifts his hips so Aiden can tug the bottoms down some. Lifts his arm to let Aiden duck his head down into his lap.

Road head is Lambert's favorite kind of head.

 

Lambert's only a little irate when Aiden scarfs down most of the lo mein. Only a little, because Aiden tells him around a mouthful that it tastes glorious and he hasn't had a chance to eat all day. They split the eggrolls, and Aiden offhandedly offers to cook him some Indian food sometime.

"The authentic stuff, not that shit that you can buy in the mall's food court," Aiden comments before drinking down the rest of Lambert's coke. "First thing I did when I decided to get in touch with my roots was learn the food."

"Okay, but see, here's the problem," Lambert tells him, knocking their knees together. "I am a delicate white guy who thinks air is spicy. Mild salsa makes my nose run. I know you like your food hot, and thus I'll die."

"You won't die. You'll just shit fire," Aiden replies with a serious look, before they both burst into laughter.

 

"What do you think about this one?" Aiden asks, gesturing at his computer. Lambert's kitchen table creaks when he leans his elbows on it and squints at the laptop screen.

"Looks nice enough, like the little garden out front," Lambert says, scrolling through the photos of a rental house. "Why you keep asking me?"

Aiden shrugs. "You'll be over often enough, I assume. Figure you'd have some opinions." He goes silent, tenses a little. "And I mean, I've been here for like, three weeks now? We cohabitate pretty well? I hate your cooking but the chore thing we did works pretty well? And it's nice to be around you a lot? Even if you snore a lot?"

"You're phrasing your sentences like questions and rambling again. If you've got a point, just spit it out."

Aiden doesn't hesitate, just carries on like Lambert never interrupted. "Well I mean, we've been together a year and a half and it's been pretty good. Before this happened, I was gonna ask you-" He stops and furrows his brows. "I want your opinion because I was wanting to know if you'd be interested in moving in together?"

"I was kind of wandering the same thing, actually," Lambert says, cracking a smile. "So yeah, I've got no problem with it. Let me see those pictures again?"


	24. Xenia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xenia (Greek: trans. "guest-friendship") is the ancient Greek concept of hospitality, the generosity and courtesy shown to those who are far from home and/or associates of the person bestowing guest-friendship.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for mentioned rape and not so mentioned murder

"I'm a wanted man on Skellige, you know," Aiden tells him softly, watching the whales in the water. "I... I did some pretty awful things there in my younger years. Enough time has passed that only the middle aged and old could recognize my face, but..." It's unspoken knowledge that they'll hang Aiden if he's identified.

Lambert nods, pulling his gauntlets on. It's fucking cold out, sleeting and shit. "I know. You'll have to keep your hood up most of the time, probably. We'll be as quick as we can, though, just gotta take care of the Wyvern problem and then we'll go. Be a week at the most and then we'll be heading home."

Aiden nods, but doesn't say anything. There's something far away in his eyes as he stares out over the horizon. He worries his lip with his teeth, not seeming to notice that he's ripping the skin to shreds.

"Hey." Aiden turns his head, slow, before tearing his eyes from the ocean and looking at Lambert. "Look. I already know you did some shit in your past. Definitely never achieving sainthood, but then again, me either. So I'll listen, won't think any worse of you."

Aiden smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Of course."

Lambert stays next to him, trying to see what the fuck is so interesting in the sea. It's known that Aiden was an awful fucking person in his youth. Lambert has flat out told him that he was the scum of the earth at that point in time, but on the other hand Aiden also isn't the same man he was back then.

The sky grows dark, but Aiden stays in the same spot for hours. Still, like a bronze statue. Most of the crew has gone to sleep by the time Lambert returns back to Aiden's side, where it's finally safe for them to tangle their fingers together on the railing.

"A Baron sent me when I was in my twenties," Aiden says in a low voice, giving Lambert's hand a squeeze. "His daughter and son came to visit their grandmother on Ard Skellig. The two made a trip on their own to Undvik. Were both beaten and raped, many times until their granny sent someone to find them.

"Baron summoned me after his kids came home. Said no one fessed up to doing it, and since no one would come forward, they all deserved to suffer. I agreed, not because of the atrocities committed against his children, but because of the size of the purse I was being offered." Aiden keeps his gaze out to the sea. He never looks at Lambert while admitting these things. It's hard enough to deal with the guilt of it weighing on him, but he can't handle the thinly veiled look of disgust that Lambert always has.

"Got half of the pay upfront because I already had a plan. I could have easily just found out who did it, but I did the job I was paid for. I got there, told a few of the folks in the town that I was looking for a home away from home, somewhere nice where I could just relax and forget about being a witcher for a while." He lets out a humorless laugh.

"And the people, they were so friendly, treated me like a fucking human. Offered me a place at their dinner tables, told me what a beautiful man I am. A lot of them offered me their home for the night, even more offered to help build me a home of my own if I wanted to stay.

"So as a show of my gratefulness, I got everyone roaring drunk that evening. Spent every fucking coin that baron gave me, and then some of my own, until no one could walk straight. And when everyone went to sleep, I poisoned their well with just about every potion I had on me. Most of them were dead by noon. I was gone on the next boat home."

Lambert doesn't say anything. He doesn't let go of Aiden's hand either, but doesn't squeeze back when Aiden tightens his fingers.

"That's pretty fucked up."

Aiden lets out a surprised bark of laughter. "Fuck, that's an understatement. One guy fucked up, so I killed a hundred. Fucked up doesn't begin to cover it."

"Would you do it over again if you got the chance to change your past?" It's Lambert's polite way of asking Aiden if he would do the right thing. Aiden gives him the same dissatisfying answer that he always does.

"Everything I did lead to you, so I guess I did something right."

But his look never leave the water. Something in his eyes disagrees with that he says. He would fix it all in a heartbeat if he could. At least, that's what Lambert hopes. They stay silent for the rest of the night, listening to the whale songs under the half moon.


	25. Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. eskel and papa vesemir
> 
> An Aiden lives au, but not what you expect

"Hi, Lambert, darling, light of my life, I love you," Aiden says sweetly, definitely manic, taking Lambert's face into his hands and walking him backwards to the edge of the woods at the crossroads, the way he just came from. They kiss, but Lambert pulls away after a moment and yanks Aiden's hood down.

"Hi? What the fuck?" From near Aiden's horse, Violet, Lambert's ears pick up the sounds of something small moving around. Kid playing, maybe. Aiden likes to let kids feed Violet. But Lambert can't see from this angle.

Aiden pulls him into an embrace, nestling his face into Lambert's shoulder. "You're going to fucking hate me!" he say cheerfully, digging his hands into Lambert's cloak. "You'd take the news of me still being an assassin better than this! Oh, fuck me this is terrible!"

"What the fuck did you do?" Lambert asks in an accusatory tone, ripping away from Aiden. He's not sure why Aiden is so fucking manic, but it doesn't sit well in his gut. And he _wouldn't_ take the news of Aiden still being an assassin well at all, so all sorts of awful scenarios run through his head.

"You ever heard of the law of surprise?"

Ah. That was a lie. He definitely would have taken the assassin news better. He's invoked the law himself, many times, but he knows exactly what happened from the tone of Aiden's voice. Lambert's face drops. " _You didn't._ "

"I wanted his daughter-in-law's dowry, not his fucking daughter!" Aiden shouts, panic overriding the mania. "I expected him to hand me a little coin pouch that his wife collected, and then he plopped a fucking kid in my arms and slammed the door! I didn't know what the fuck to do!" He rakes his fingers through his hair, taking the loose hair tie in the process.

Lambert hisses air through his nose and shoves past Aiden. He looks around the horse, down at the child on the ground. She can't be older than three, certainly small for her age if she is, with a hand-me-down dress and a beaten doll. She looks up at Lambert, then looks to Aiden nervously.

"Hi, Pearla! This is Lambert!" And in a lower voice, once she goes back to her doll, "Please help. I don't know what to do with a kid and you're the only person I trust."

Lambert fixes him with a glare.

 

 

"Yeah, that's certainly a kid," Eskel says, tickling Pearla's side. She buries her face into Aiden's shoulder, but they catch a smile as she does it. They all stand in the shadow of Kaer Morhen, avoiding the scorch of the afternoon sun.

"We don't, uh, usually take girl children the way you Cats do," Vesemir tells Aiden, giving the Cat a fifth once-over. Vesemir has a very, very low opinion of Cats and it shows in the hostility of his body language. He hasn't forgotten what Aiden's brethren did at the Tournament all those years ago. Aiden is too preoccupied by the wigging child in his arms to care about the faintly disgusted look Vesemir is giving him.

"He's not asking us to take her. It's more me letting you know I wanna take them both in," Lambert clarifies. Vesemir looks anything but pleased by that. "Or, rather, telling you flat out that they're here now. For as long as they need."

Pearla squeals when Eskel assaults her from both sides, his fingers digging in below her ribs. She flails wildly, but Aiden keeps a firm hold of her.. To Vesemir, Aiden says "I didn't really mean to take her. I was expecting a dowry, not a child suddenly back from a visit to grandma. And I..." He makes a face. "The Cats aren't a good bunch. I don't want her anywhere near my old home, even if the place is abandoned."

"He has no fucking clue what he's doing, anyways," Lambert tells him, unwilling to let Vesemir get a word in. "Nowhere safe to go with her, either. Can't very well sleep on the side of the road with a kid who likes to wander."

Vesemir has a look on his face like he's chewed on something sour. The look changes just a hair when Lambert tangles his hand into Aiden's free one. Lambert kind of counts on Vesemir being a bleeding heart for lovers, but knowing the old man, it probably won't change a thing. He doubts the hardass has even been in love or whatever. 

"Look, I'm already attached to the kid, and if we're being honest, Geralt totally got to bring Ciri here. Only fair that mine get to stay." Lambert tilts his face up in defiance, waiting for Vesemir's rebuttal.

"Yours? You didn't invoke the law." Vesemir crosses his arms, looks Lambert down.

"His kid is my kid. I already put a ring on this bitch-" Aiden snorts at that, "- so unless you want me setting off bombs under your window later and purposefully keeping you up with our, ahem, night life, we're gonna be finding us a nice compromise, Vesemir."

Vesemir scowls. Obstinate little shit, always has been one. He glances to Eskel for support, only to see he's still playing with the kid. A silent round of peek-a-boo.

"Not getting any help from me, Uncle Vesemir. This kid is cute as hell," Eskel says, eyes covered.

"Three again one. I think we've won here," Lambert tells him smugly, hand on his hip. "He's not all that shitty once you get to know him, I promise. Just keep on eye on the alcohol, his drinking puts all of us to shame."

Vesemir bites his tongue. He's got a lot of choice words, about this Aiden and the school he hails from, but the kid in his arm looks away from Eskel. She's got big brown eyes, and beams at Vesemir in only the way a child could manage. They're not wrong, she is a cute kid.

"So help me Lambert, if he even looks at me wrong, you're both out on your asses and _I'm_ keeping her," Vesemir threatens, and by the way Lambert and Aiden grin at each other, he estimates he'll be going through with that threat by the end of the week.


	26. Zone

"This is it," Aiden says, letting go of the reigns. He hops off of his horse before Lambert even has the chance to get his feet out of the stirrups. He comes up to Aiden, who stands at the solid wood of the closed gate. "I'll push one if you get the other?"

Lambert agrees, and they both heave at the wood. The hinges squeal something awful, but give eventually and the gate opens enough for them and the horses to get through.

He stares up, marveling at the building. He'd seen it from afar while lagging behind Aiden, even through the thickness of the woods. It was beautiful then, lined by the lush green hills rolling behind it. Elven architecture, evident by the high arches, the tall columns, and general design. It's several stories tall, and shaped much like a castle. Probably was one. Up close, even crumbling, the old keep is fucking breathtaking.

"This is it," Aiden repeats, looking around at the overgrown courtyard. "This is home."

There's a garden to the left of the structure, and the right is overgrown with trees and vines. The garden has seen better days, with its stone benches and tables beginning to crack and split, grass and weeds growing through the gaps. The plants, while healthy, grow wild and out of control. Lambert's never seen moleyarrow grow that tall before. Nostrix chokes the wall, verbena grows like weeds. Aiden takes Lambert by the hand while he marvels at the sheer fucking beauty of the place, murmurs about taking Lambert inside.

"I'll bring you back out to the garden in a little bit, I promise. I just want out of the sun for a bit," Aiden says. They close the gates first to keep out any unwanted guests, struggling more to close it than they did to open it.

They're assaulted by a cloud of dust when Aiden opens one of the front doors, so thick it chokes the two of them. It clears a moment later, enough for them to see the clear imprints of boots having cut through the dust, now covered in several more layers of dust.

"Been at least a year since anyone's been here," Aiden says, more to himself than anything as he peers at the prints. "Maybe Gaetan, boots are his size and the trail leads to his little alcove."

The inside is just as stunning as Lambert thought it would be. Support pillars up to the ceiling, intricately carved and painted. Stained glass windows pouring light it, mostly unbroken. Everything's caked in dust, yeah, but fuck. Not often he gets to look around such a nice place.

He lets Aiden guide him around in a little tour. The kitchen is large and spacious, even with the chairs and tables scattered throughout. Little light comes in, but the sun is high enough that they can see okay. All of the food stored away is either rotted or covered in dust, but that's fine, they've brought their own rations for the most part. There's a small door off to the side, but Aiden tells him it's where the trials happened, so they ignore that door.

The library is filled with more books than Lambert's seen in his entire life. Light pours in from the stained windows, casting a deep but pleasant orange glow over the room. The shelves go up to the ceiling, sections labeled meticulously. Aiden breaks away from Lambert for a moment, rolls the ladder to a specific point and climbs. He scans his eyes over the expanse of one shelf until he pulls out a thick book bound in leather. Aiden hold it up with a grin. Lambert squints up and can just barely make out that it's an anatomy textbook.

"I used to masturbate to this when I was a teenager!" he calls down cheerfully. Lambert laughs like it's the best thing he's heard all week, because it really is.

He's taken to an indoor training room next. The floor is covered in centuries old blood spatters, the wooden sword racks rotted away and the swords rusted. There are a few battle axes on the wall, but the nails and blades have rusted together. Aiden points to a blood splatter high on the wall and mentions he did that, tells an elaborate story about how he punched out an older witcher because young Aiden was easily spooked. Lambert calls bullshit, and Aiden snickers and admits he cut his hand once and slung the blood at the wall.

They breeze through a few more rooms, a small bathing room, what once was a council room, and Aiden finally pulls him up a large staircase. "My room was up on this end," he says, taking Lambert up to the third story. "But I'll take you to the other side later."

Aiden's room is covered in just as much dust as the other rooms, and full of junk. Books are stacked on every flat surface, dresser drawers hang open with clothes spilling out. The closet is full of old, decaying leather armor and boots, and moth-eaten tunics that haven't been in style since they were young. A few very old small toys tucked neatly on the corner of a nightstand, with intricate carvings of Ofieri design. It's organized madness. It's very distinctly Aiden.

"Haven't been here in ten years," Aiden mutters to himself while scanning the room. He moves about, tiding up, shaking dust out of the blankets. They've got nowhere else to sleep but under the stars, and a dusty bed is better than no bed. Aiden has Lambert open up the window to let the dust filter out and bring light in. Lambert looks around the room while Aiden does his thing, poking around in Aiden's old belongings and books. He snickers to himself when he finds three more anatomy textbooks stacked next to the bed.

Once Aiden's finished with the bed, he shows Lambert around the rest of the place. There's not much more of interest, but outside, Lambert makes a beeline back to the garden. It's pretty, and Aiden merely laughs when Lambert starts harvesting blooms and ripe fruit after a moment of admiration. No point in wasting good plants. Even with his gloves on, Aiden breaks out in a small rash as he plucks nostrix leaves until Lambert shoves him away from it.

The two sit at the table of the crumbing garden, eating ripened apples and oranges harvested from trees on the grounds. Their boots knock under the table as they talk, though it's mostly Aiden talking. Pointing at different areas and telling stories.

Kissed his first boy in that corner over there. Almost died over there by the plants because he was dared to eat nostrix. Also almost died over there by the door from a wendigo attacking. Points out a spot high on the wall of the castle, marked with something dark, he was the one who climbed the highest. Broke both his arms and a leg when he fell though.

"So this is home, huh?" Lambert asks, before putting another orange slice in his mouth. Gives the place another look. "It's nice. Can see why the first Cats settled here. I'd sell my right stone for this place."

Aiden laughs at him. Lambert and always offering one of his fucking balls for something. He gives Lambert a long look in the fading light of the afternoon. His face is lined with the signs of aging, gray hairs already pricking his beard. In this light, he can imagine Lambert as a young man with messy hair, with crisp sky blue eyes and a smile on his mouth with no signs of malice. It's still not as beautiful of a picture as the one before him.

"Nah," Aiden finds himself saying, mouth moving faster than his brain. "Maybe this isn't home after all."

Lambert gives him a look. "The fuck are you going on about?"

"You."

Lambert's brow raises, but he bites his tongue to give Aiden the chance to explain himself. He's used to Aiden's strange and cryptic statements, knows that something should follow. Aiden's cheeks have gone pink, his face soft and his smile bright.

"You. I think... Wherever you are, no, wherever I am _with_ you, that's home."

And it's stupid. It's absolutely ridiculous. It's something that a lovesick teenager would say. Lambert wants to scoff and say something rude in response. But it's so gods damned sickly sweet, so kind, that all Lambert can do is laugh and smile back as Aiden reaches across the table to take his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!
> 
> I hope you guys have enjoyed, I know I enjoyed all of the writing, y'know, fleshing out a character that doesn't really exist past a name. It was a lot of fun and I look forward to maybe writing more for them.
> 
> Also be sure to check out the Aiden/Lambert fics by imperfectkreis, they're the one who got me into this ship in the first place.
> 
> lov u binch u da best

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I have [my blog](http://iwillpooponthefloor.tumblr.com) on tumblr, if you'd like to check that out. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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